


Scratching the Itch

by thinlizzy2



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has Two Penises (Good Omens), M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24623761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/pseuds/thinlizzy2
Summary: It's simply a part of The Arrangement - Aziraphale helps Crowley through his heat cycles. The heats are just a bit more complicated than the angel realises; that's all.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 154
Collections: Heat Fic Summer 2020





	Scratching the Itch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [borrowedphrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/gifts).



Crowley threw his head back and shamelessly screamed. He couldn't have held back the noise if he'd tried, but there was no point in even making the effort. They'd learned long ago to miraculously soundproof whatever rooms they used for this. It was absolutely necessary, especially considering the skills Aziraphale had developed over the centuries.

Like what he was doing now, expertly taking one of Crowley's long, snake-like cocks deep into his throat while using his hands to stroke and tease the other. The twin pleasures were almost too much for Crowley, especially in the heightened state that his heats brought on. Every touch was pleasure that bordered on pain; his skin was sensitive beyond the limits of human understanding and his whole body felt like fire. Aziraphale's touch was a fucking impossible thing at a time like this; it made everything better and also so much worse. Crowley hissed, his tongue forking in his mouth, and spread his legs wide in wordless supplication.

Aziraphale slid a finger into him and Crowley arched off the bed, his hands scrabbling at Aziraphale's back in a purely instinctive need for more. If he were in his normal state of mind, he'd be humiliated beyond words at his shameless desperation. But even if he had never shared all the details of his heats with Aziraphale, the need was absolutely real. The cravings were in full control now, and Crowley couldn't even muster the mental strength required for embarrassment at the moment.

"Easy", Aziraphale whispered, and how the hell could he still manage to sound so calm? "It'll be better soon."

Crowley snarled, a purely animal sound. He wrapped his legs around Aziraphale's hips like a snake strangling its prey. "Angel..." He was stunned that he could still form words. " _Fuck me._ "

Aziraphale knew better than to tease when Crowley got into this state. He gave a quick twitch of the finger buried deep inside the demon, the movement making hot stars explode behind Crowley's eyes, and used a small lubricating miracle. Crowley felt himself grow slick inside, and then there was an almost unbearable absence as Aziraphale pulled out. Crowley made a sound that was half-sob and half-choke, fading off as Aziraphale leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his forehead.

"I think you waited to long to ask me this time, my dear boy. It seems unusually strong this cycle."

It wasn't the timing that was off; it had been the situation. It never got this bad when he had regular contact with Aziraphale; the angel's mere presence did enough to soothe the heat into tolerability. But their respective duties had kept them apart for the last several years, and Crowley had been reduced to an addict with an unstoppable craving.

But he was finally getting his fix. Aziraphale entered him slowly, his hips pressing forward until he was finally as far inside of Crowley as it was possible to be. Their bodies were pressed flush against each other and Crowley was entirely lost in it all - the sweet stretch inside of him, the burning in his muscles, the scent of Aziraphale on his sensitive serpent's tongue. It was everything, but it wasn't enough. He dug his heels into Aziraphale's back, all that he had begging for more.

And Aziraphale gave it all to him. The angel thought he knew what it was that Crowley needed; the demon had made certain of that. So Aziraphale drove himself deep into Crowley with a strength that no human could have matched and that no human partner could have tolerated. Crowley's twin cocks leaked shamelessly between their two bellies, even that little hint of friction making sparks take form in his spine. He wanted so much to touch himself, but that would have meant letting go of Aziraphale and that was simply impossible. Instead he pulled furiously at Aziraphale's hair, clawed at the skin of his back, grabbed handfuls of his arse. Aziraphale's body under Crowley's fingers was better than anything else Heaven or Hell or the entire physical world had to offer. The angel filled up Crowley's whole world, and yet the cravings only grew sharper.

Aziraphale's hand closed around Crowley's cocks, gently rubbing them together, and Crowley hissed from the very centre of himself. His eyes snapped open and met Aziraphale's. That cool-water blue sizzled into the yellow flames of Crowley's own eyes and he'd never felt so entirely owned in all of his existence.

"Crowley..." Aziraphale's voice finally sounded strained, and Crowley was so glad of it. "Tell me when..."

He wanted so much to hold off, to make this last just a little bit longer. But this was an addiction far beyond his control, and Crowley needed what he needed. He thrust back against Aziraphale, a gutteral groan ripping itself from his throat, and then gave in. "Do it now."

There was a flash of light, and a gust of wind that was more idea than reality. Aziraphale's wings filled up the room, arching over Crowley like pure white storm clouds. They shuddered, feathers glistening, as Aziraphale came inside of him. Crowley's own orgasm hit him with the force of a meteor, but it still almost went unnoticed. He was too intently focussed on his greater need.

It had to happen soon, now that he'd come. If it didn't, Aziraphale would learn the truth, and that couldn't be allowed to happen.

The angel's beautiful shimmering wingtips brushed against Crowley's face and stroked his chest, feather-light. And then he was wrapped up safe in their great breadth, entirely enfolded in Aziraphale, and he finally felt the tension begin to leave his body and mind.

The relief was incredible. It was a cool, clean breeze blowing pestilence away, the first drop of rain on parched soil. Crowley's heat was sated. He rested his head against Aziraphale's soft feathers and savoured the only true satisfaction that had ever mattered to him.

"All right, Anthony dearest?" The use of his rarely-heard first name almost undid him. Aziraphale only ever used it at times exactly like this.

"Thank you." Crowley's own voice sounded to him like it was coming from very far away.

"It's a funny thing, isn't it? Your heats, I mean. Demons don't reproduce sexually. It's strange that this happens anyway?"

Once he had fully recovered, Crowley would make up some explanation. Aziraphale had always assumed Crowley's heats were mating drives, purely physical in nature. Somehow, he had never realised what they were truly all about.

Demons had all been angels once, at some point. Living in Heaven, in the presence of Her love. That was what drove the heat cycles; an overwhelming need to get back some semblance of the love that they'd lost when they fell.

Crowley curled up under Aziraphale's wing. It was under this very same wing, standing on a wall and taking shelter from the rain, that he'd first discovered he could feel loved despite his fall. And ever since then, nothing but the chance to feel it curling protectively around him again would do.

He'd make up something in the morning. For now, he just snuggled against Aziraphale and let himself dissolve in the sweet ache of a craving fulfilled.


End file.
